Vampire Wars
by Carly McE
Summary: This first chapter isn't very good, because it doesn't give you much and doesn't get you into the story basically, it's boring , but I'm working on it! I'll KEEP working on it depending on ratings.I hope you like what little there is of it!


I was woozy. I swear, I couldn't remember that evening if I tried, because I was so out of it. One minute I was partying with my friends, the next I woke up in an apartment that I'd never even seen before. The lights and the sounds from the night before rang in my head repeatedly. I was dizzy, and was squinting from the light. My light honey colored hair looked so messed up, I couldn't even tell it was my hair- or hair _at all_, for that matter- until I pulled on it.

"Muuuhh." I groaned, and rolled over. It sounded like a complaint, the way it came out of my mouth. Like the night of the living dead, I would have been the _un_dead Frankenstein. I pulled a pillow in front of my eyes, then put in my lap and looked around. The sound of cars in the street outside reverberated toward the sky from the street levels below the wide window on the side of the bed. The sheets were white, and soft as silk and were the softest thing I'd felt in years. All the walls were white, and at first look, the room looked like… a heaven. A safe, white, dazzling place. My first reaction was awe, and then shock and a feeling of mystification. Who in the world put me here? And, where was I? I knew that my parents wouldn't notice I was missing. All they cared about was their jobs, and when the next election was coming up. Who would notice, or care, when their disobedient 16 year old went missing? Oh, she just took a break from all the stress, they would say, to anyone who cared enough to ask. I could feel my face sour up. I looked around again, and finally got up. _Whoa_, I thought as I wobbled, _bad choice_. I stumbled and fell, and for the first time, heard faint voices outside of the closed (white, of course) door. My eyebrows shot up in surprise. I crawled toward the door, and heard them again, only they were less muted now that I was closer. I put my ear up to the door and strained to hear the snippets of conversations.

"Well, I couldn't_ not_ help her…"

"So? We can't have some girl distracting us. We came to…"

" I know, I know…"

"We should go get her, then, and see what we can do…"

My eyes widened, and I shot towards the bed, having this really strange feeling about the conversation, that it was private, and I shouldn't have been listening in…

I buried myself in what seemed like miles of sheet, and then held still, holding my breath.

I heard the door slowly open, barely making a sound. I closed my eyes and tried to look relaxed. Then I heard something really strange. The sound of more than two pairs of feet shuffling through the door.

Holy crap, if this was some kind of a gang, I was dead…

I heard whispers, then I felt the sheets being pulled back, and a few gasps. Uh-oh. Did they recognize me? Maybe they thought I was going to tell my mom and dad? Maybe they thought I not only sounded like a monster from the deep, but looked like one as well? Or, or… what if they were thinking they could ransom me? Ha. If they were, they were in for a surprise. My parents couldn't care less about me.

"Is she asleep?"

"She looks so peaceful."

"Oh my god. What if she's dead? What if we _killed_ her?!" I heard a rougher voice anxiously whisper.

All of the voices started whispering all at once, having a debate about what to do with my body. Lovely. Looks like I really _was _dead.

I heard someone hiss, "Shut up! Could you be more retarded? She. Is. Just. Sleeping." this voice sounded younger, although I couldn't really tell.

I felt a thumb on my cheek, soft and soothing. Stroking and comforting me.

"Sweetie? Are you awake?" I heard a voice murmur beside my ear, and the thumb pulled away. My eyes fluttered open after around three seconds, and I looked up.

Wow. These guys were_ definitely_ not druggies. They were all in their twenties in the least, and all of them looked curious. They were each trying to get a good look at my face, now that my eyes were open, peering around each other. The one sitting on the end of the bed was definitely the cutest. He had blonde hair that flopped over his eyes, which were a soothing gray, almost silver. There were around six of them, including the thirteen year old (I'm just guessing)and the blonde who was leaning towards me at the moment, his face contemplating my expression, who was obviously the one who touched me on the cheek.

As for my expression, I tried to keep my eyes my eyes wide and my cheeks flushed (which I can do on command, by the way). Looking around at all the faces, they looked about as nervous as I should be at the moment.

"Hey, you. How you doin'?" _he_ asked, in a very soft voice. I don't really need to specify on whom, right?

"Um…" I said, my eyes getting wider as I stated the answer to his question. _Was_ I all right? I honestly had no idea.

"What's your name?" he asked, urging for more information.

"Abigail. I-um-wel-...wh-where am I, exactly?Who are you? Can I go home?" even though I really didn't want to go at the moment, I felt like eating a bag of Doritos, and asking for food from strangers was off limits and _way_ too awkward.

"Well, my name is Noah. These are my brothers Logan, William, Aaron, Cole, and Oliver. You are, at the moment, in our apartment. We kind of found you passed out on the sidewalk outside of a building that-uh- sounded...occupied." Oh. I remember passing out, and I also remember Braden throwing me out of his party for reasons I would rather not say. Kind of, embarrassing ,though, that they found me totally wasted and guys didn't seem to know who I was, so that made it easier to_ not_ be embarrassed.

"Ok. Um, thanks for that? But please, can I just go home?" I asked, in a small voice.

Noah smiled. "Of course. We just want to make sure you're okay before we let you, all right? That's understandable, right?"

"Yeah." I whispered, looking down at my intertwined hands.

"Hey. You hungry? We have tons of food, mainly because Oliver's a pig. But whatever. He'll live if we steal some. I think." he smiled crookedly.

"Hey!" the youngest guy looked hurt and very offended.

"Um, okay." I was still whispering. What was wrong with me? I couldn't even think straight because I was alone in a room with six really hot guys. Wait, forget I thought that. Can you say 'slut'?

All of the guys shuffled out of the room, except for Noah. But he, too, got up and headed towards the door. He looked over his shoulder.

"You comin'?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

I nodded, and got up and followed him out of the room.

* * *

Oliver isn't thirteen, as I'd previously thought, but is actually around 15, just two years younger than other five are all in their twenties, as I'd previously thought. All of them are awesome, and had me laughing as soon we all sat down at their humongous table (not as big as mine, but it was still nice). The rest of their apartment (which they told me they'd had for some time.) was beautiful. Each room had a theme, and I laughed at the reasons why they chose each one(the bathroom was Hello Kitty). And I'll have you know that they happened to have Doritos, so I _did _get the bag I'd been craving. Weird, huh? Anyway, after we did all this they said bye to me and I left. Some morning.

Just as I was thinking this, I heard my mom yell something up the stairs to me. I frowned and jumped off my bed. I don't really have a theme for my room, unless 'crap heap' is a theme. I don't think I remember what color my floor is. I can't even remember if it was carpet or not. Isn't that horrible?

"What, mom? I didn't hear you!" I practically had to scream. My room may be a heap, but it's so big that you can get lost if you even try to look for something specific.

"I said, are any of your friends coming over today?!" No. They were probably too hung-over.

"Uh... probably not!" I said, as I finally dodged all of junk and got out into the hall.

"Why not?" I saw my mom inside of my parents' room. I went in and sat on the bed beside her. She was on her laptop, and looked up for only a second before returning her attention to the all important document she was making. The only thing my mom cares for in this world, besides my dad winning the campaign for mayor and her job, is writing personal articles. She must think she's so important that one day they might make a documentary of her when she dies or something like that. Whatever the reason, my mom was self absorbed. She never denied it, either. Whenever someone hinted at it or brought it up, she would flip her light blonde hair and say bleatingly, "Well, that's a rude thing to say.". But she spent around twenty thousand dollars a year on her apperance. I'm not talking about makeup, either. I'm talking all-out face lifts, hair cuts, skin products, laser therapy, lipo and more. Which is her secret to not getting wrinkles, getting fat, or getting unpopular. But do you want to know something discusting, though? My mother is exactly thirty years old. How sick is that? Thirty, and she's already flown all the way to Italy to get a certain skin product that won't let her get bags under her eyes. My dad isn't that concerned about his appearance. Which is weird, you know? Because _he's_ the one running for mayor. Don't you think it should be the other way around? Then there's me, a seventeen year old girl who some guys would buy a car to get with. Why is that, you ask? Is it becasuse you're pretty? Well, I've been on the cover of some magazines, but, no that's not usually why. My curvy figure and light ice blue eyes have nothing to do with the fact that guys are usually all over me. It's because I'm rich. Not because they like me for me, but because I can get them anything they want with money. _That'_s why the famous trouble maker daughter of the do-gooder mayor isn't going out with anyone, okay? Because I'm scared guys might use me.

"Um... I just feel like some me time today, I guess." I shrugged, and she nodded and said "Hm." which basically meant, "Okay, you don't matter anymore. Shoo."

I sighed and left the room, thinking what I should do with my whole day of 'me time'.


End file.
